


Finding the Middle Ground

by Bittereloquence



Series: Between the Stars [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Jedi vs Mandalorian Culture, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Slowish burn continues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittereloquence/pseuds/Bittereloquence
Summary: “Fine then, let’s be frank then, shall we?” There was a new husky burr in Plo’s voice and even if Jaster couldn’t see it, he felt the weight of the Kel Dor’s eyes centered on those brief points of contact. “What is this?”“This? Nowthisis flirting.” He said with a crooked looking smile and his cheeky response earned him a quiet huff from the Kel Dor. But for the first time, Plo seemed to reciprocate because his fingers crooked ever so slightly into Jaster’s which brought the cool metal tips of those curious metal guards he wore over some of his talons upwards to drag against the underside of Jaster’s fingers and well...that was certainly a curious sensation.
Relationships: Jango Fett & Jaster Mereel, Plo Koon & Jaster Mereel, Plo Koon/Jaster Mereel
Series: Between the Stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945153
Comments: 22
Kudos: 102
Collections: November High Council Bounty





	Finding the Middle Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my second installment of the most ridiculous slow-burn ever. This is a sequel to a previous fic of mine which I would honestly recommend going and reading first. [Stars and the Spaces Between](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26726332/chapters/65199748) establish this little verse. This is a combination of the old Legends canon and the Jango Fett Open Seasons comic which introduces us to Jaster Mereel, one of the most under-appreciated Mandalorians IMHO but I'll be honest, I'm not sticking to either EU or Disney canon and making my own Frankenstein's monster which will eventually go off into left field. This is in part coming about because I saw the prompt for this month's Bounty Board on the SW Fanfic discord was hand-holding and immediately thought of these two nerds. There will be another fic after this cause I'm still not done with these two and hopefully one day we will move beyond chaste hand-holding and yanno Mando vs Jedi cultural differences.

_Rows of houses, sound asleep  
Only street lights, notice me  
I am desperate, If nothing else  
In a holding pattern_  
Sleeping at Last: Mercury

* * *

It was almost three months after his harrowing experience with Plo Koon when his comlink finally rang out of nowhere. Jaster had been quite busy these past few months between fixing up his ship and then conducting a carefully planned out raid on the underground stronghold of the slimy worm who’d very nearly gotten him killed.

He’d been hoping to find the filthy _hut'uun_ Tor Vizsla hiding amongst Qadab’s lackeys but he had been sorely disappointed. If the bastard had been there, he’d already cut out like the coward he was the moment he heard they’d bungled trying to kill Jaster off.

After that, it had been business as usual as they’d been mired down in a nearly two-month long campaign helping a rebel faction stage and overthrow a corrupt regime on an outer rim world. Normally, they would find themselves on the other side of the conflict because usually, it was the governments that had the credits to be able to afford off-planet mercenaries.

They’d managed to capture one of the largest mines on the planet and hold it which had given them steady access to credits which in turn had allowed them to be able to hire Jaster’s Mandalorians to help train and support their ranks into a more organized fighting force.

As a general rule, Jaster tried to avoid bogging himself down over things like which side was right or wrong and definitely didn’t involve himself in the political side of a conflict. Thankfully, their reputation was established enough these days they could pick and choose which conflicts they took on so they could say no to the more odious or obviously reprehensible contracts working for various dictators simply looking to crush the opposition.

But he would be lying if he didn’t admit he’d felt a flash of something like tired satisfaction when they had freed the last of the slave labor serving in the mines. Children, some of them no more than four or five had been used to access the smaller fissures where they couldn’t risk widening the natural crevices with explosives for fear of setting off the volatile crystals within.

He only hoped the new government wouldn’t find themselves falling back into the same corrupt practices as the previous government had done but the cynic in Jaster doubted it. They’d freed the slaves working the mines but mining was that planet’s primary export so _someone_ would have to work the mine.

They would find poor, exploitable people who were willing to take on the dangerous work for the least amount of pay. The people they had freed would probably be the same ones working that damn mine next week but this time they might actually be paid a pittance instead.

But they wouldn’t be slaves and that would have to be enough. Or at the least, it would be enough as far as he and his Mandalorians went because they had gotten paid and kicked the dust of that miserable planet off their boots as they left and didn’t bother to look back.

Jaster had barely made it back home to their temporary base and had been debating indulging himself with a long hot shower water since they were planetside when his com started ringing. The temptation to ignore it and continue stripping off his armor and blood-stained undersuit was almost overpowering. Only the knowledge it might be something that couldn’t wait for some wayward Mando in trouble pushed him to answer despite not recognizing the code outright.

“This is, Jaster.”

“Hello, Jaster, you sound tired. Did I catch you at a bad time?” It had been months since he’d heard that voice but Jaster could place it immediately and was surprised by the flash of warmth he felt towards the man on the other side of the connection.

“Plo? No, this isn’t a bad time.” All thoughts that he'd been having of a shower were promptly forgotten. “How are you doing?”

“I am well, they kept me in the Halls of Healing for the better part of a month but eventually cleared me again for light duty.”

“Oh, that long, huh?”

“Apparently it takes a while to heal from a bowcaster quarrel and there were a few complications as well.”

“It did blow a pretty sizable chunk in your abdomen.”

“Yes, the healers weren’t particularly pleased with that. But I am happy to say I’ve been cleared now and am back on my patrol route. I’m currently helping out at the AgriCorps outpost on Bandomeer and was curious if you were in the area?”

“I’m in the sector but it might take me some time to get there?” Jaster ended that sentence with a questioning note in his voice. “Why? Miss me that much?” He teased just for the pleasure of trying to get a reaction out of the Jedi. This wasn’t a holo-call though so he wouldn't be able to see the way the Kel Dor physically reacted. If the mottles of his skin darkened as it was wont to do when he was embarrassed or flustered.

“And what if I did?” Trust the damn _Jetii_ to completely turn the tables on him. Jaster was suddenly relieved that Plo Koon couldn’t see his face or the poleaxed expression on it.

“I’d probably say you’d spent the past three months without someone’s ear to chew on regarding your enjoyment of Third Century Zeltroni love poetry.” Jaster finally managed to quip a little belatedly.

“You do have me there, sadly there aren't many people in the Halls of Healing who have even heard of Lady Xieui or her infamous love affairs much less the finer points of her poetry.”

“I hate to break it to you but I’m not exactly an expert on the subject either.”

“True but you have heard of her which puts you ahead of most everyone else in my circle of friends.” To hear the Jedi claim such friendship so easily should have felt blasphemous or presumptuous at the least but Jaster found himself incapable of denying the fact just as he found himself incapable of admitting to himself if nothing else that he did like the ridiculous Jedi.

Blame it on the intense life and death situation or perhaps the fact he’d found a bit of a kindred spirit in the Kel Dor but against his better sense, he did like the Jedi. And had spared more than one thought for the man over the intervening months, wondering if he’d recovered from his wounds.

A part of him was relieved to find he had recovered properly.

“What is there even to do on Bandomeer at this time of year?”

“Same thing they do the rest of the year, farming. Some of the independent farm co-ops that sell to the AgriCorps have reported an increased amount of raiders attacking remote settlements. Technically, our brothers and sisters in the AgriCorps are supposed to remain neutral in such matters.”

“And you think a bunch of _Mando’ade_ invading their planet and going to war with some two-bit raiders isn’t going to escalate the situation?” Jaster mused a little ironically.

“I thought they might benefit from some instruction on how to increase their fortifications and my understanding is there is a strong tradition of agriculture on a lot of Mandalorian planets. I thought your people could help.”

“Isn’t the Mining Guild actively involved in that planet?” The ongoing strip-mining of large parts of the planet was an ongoing crisis to Jaster’s knowledge. When the mining guilds had discovered valuable ore in the crust, a large-scale mining operation had muscled their way into the formerly peaceful planet.

“Yes but not in this particular part of the planet. They are simple farmers just trying to maintain their way of life.”

“I will meet with them but I make no promises. Going to war with the Mining Guild isn’t in my people’s best interests.”

“I would never ask that of you Jaster. I’ve been assured these are simply raiders and not members of any Mining Guild.”

“Transmit the coordinates and I can be there within two days.”

“I look forward to seeing you then, Jaster.”

“You too, Plo.” And to his surprise, he found those words weren’t simply empty, socially acceptable goodbyes, he actually was looking forward to seeing the _Jetii_ again. That realization was confusing and a little unsettling as Jaster found himself warring briefly internally against a lifetime of cultural prejudices combating with the knowledge he now personally had of the _Jetii_

Or at least...this particular Jedi who’d proven himself to be so much more than just the stereotypes his people held about his Order.

When Jaster explained his plans to head to Bandomeer to meet with the leaders of the local agricultural organization, he was surprised at the pushback he got from his lieutenants. Montross in particular expressed his doubts about the wisdom of his plan.

“We don’t want to come to odds with the Mining Guild, Jaster.”

“I understand that and I’ve been assured that the Guild operations aren’t anywhere near these settlements. We’re not going to cross paths with them so there’s no chance of coming to blows with the Mining Guild.” Jaster encouraged open discourse amongst his officers and made a habit of listening to their opinions as much as he could. Though ever since the Battle of Concord Dawn, Montross had been more vocal than normal in voicing his doubts.

He hadn’t been happy about Jaster’s disastrous mission to Akiva and the fact he’d almost died because of it. Jaster told himself it was simply because his second in command was upset because he hadn’t been there to guard his back but this new friction was troubling.

“This mission should be easy. We’ll have winter quarters for a few months, teach some farmers how to defend themselves, and move on in the spring. Unless you want to freeze your _gett'se_ off on Krownest again, _ner vod_?” That earned a round of laughter from his gathered officers because none of them had enjoyed freezing through an icy winter on Krownest.

“ _Haar'chak!_ No, I definitely don’t. Clan Wren’s hospitality is about as warm as their karking frozen ice cube of a planet. I just don’t want to risk endangering any future contracts with the Mining Guild.”

“I tell you what, I will reach out to my contact amongst them and verify they don’t have any operations in the area, how about that?” Jaster might be fond of Plo Koon but he wasn’t going to let his friendship with the _Jetii_ impact his people in any way.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Montross agreed and that was the end of it. Jaster reached out to his contact and after being reassured they had no personnel in the area, Jaster picked Jango and a small squad to accompany them including Myles who Jaster had quietly earmarked as being a potential new aide de camp. Depending on how the young man handled this campaign, he’d make his decision from there.

They made it to Bandomeer with little problem and as they were coming in for a landing, Jaster was struck by a wash of nostalgia for his own home planet of Concord Dawn. Something about the sight of the endless rolling fields of late autumnal crops stretching out as far as the eye could see had a wash of bittersweet memories rising at the back of his mind.

There had been a time when he would have given anything to escape the boring monotony of his family’s farm which had been his primary motivation in joining the Journeymen Protectors in the first place. The romantic notion of being a lawman had been a powerful one but had ended in bitterness when he’d ended up killing his corrupt superior officer who’d been preying upon the very people they’d been tasked to protect.

Jaster had been exiled from his home planet for his crimes but fate had put him on a different path and one he found himself incapable of regretting. If he’d stayed home on Concord Dawn, he never would have fallen in with his True Mandalorians, would never have become _Mand’alor_ at the relatively young age of thirty.

“It looks like home,” Jango commented from the co-pilot’s seat as Jaster brought the ship down to land and unlike Jaster, he didn’t look particularly happy about that realization. There was a haunted look in the young man’s eyes and Jaster’s nostalgia for home melted away, replaced by bittersweet regret.

“It does, but it will hopefully be a bit quieter. Should be a relatively easy job, Jan’ika.”

“I’m not afraid the job is too hard, Jaster. I just...he’s still out there.” His adopted son’s shoulders hunched inwards briefly and it was like a dagger to the heart.

“I know, Jan’ika. And I’m doing my best to find him. One day that _hut'uun_ will crawl out of his hole and show his ugly face again. When he does, we will make him pay for everything he’s done. He will die, I promise you that _ad'ika_.”

Jango’s far too serious eyes met his gaze for a long moment before the youth nodded his understanding. “I know you are doing everything you can to find him, Jaster. And I do appreciate it.”

“I wish I could deliver his head on a plate right now, Jango. More than just about anything in this universe. Just be patient with me a little bit longer.”

“I know...and I don’t-” The boy broke off abruptly and his expression scrunched up in a complex mask of emotions. “I don’t want you to risk your life trying to find him as you did on Akiva though.”

Momentarily stunned, Jaster could only stare at the boy slack-jawed with surprise.

“If I had to choose between him dying or your living, I would rather you live. So don’t go taking any more risks just because you promised you would kill Vizsla.” Jango said, not quite daring to meet Jaster’s gaze now.

Jaster finished unbuckling himself from the restraints so he could climb to his feet and approach the boy who was still strapped into the co-pilot seat. “I’m not going to die, Jango. As much as I want Vizsla dead, I won’t give him the satisfaction of killing me in the process.” After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out and ruffled the boy’s bouncy curls affectionately.

Some days, Jaster felt like he was mucking up the whole fathering gig; like he had no kriffing idea what he was doing trying to raise a child who’d gone through the kinds of trauma Jango had been subjected to. Other days, when Jango looked up at him and offered one of his rare boyish grins, he let himself feel like maybe he wasn’t doing as terrible a job as he feared. Still, it was an interesting and often anxiety-riddled dance trying to figure out how to navigate his relationship with the boy.

Jango busied himself with unfastening the restraints and played at pretending he didn’t enjoy that affectionate touch.

“You won’t lose a second family, Jan’ika. Even if the unthinkable happens and I were to die, you won’t be alone, _ad’ika_.”

“It’s not the same.” Jango finally said, voice tight with repressed emotion. He shot to his feet abruptly and darted for the door where he very nearly bowled right into poor Myles who’d been coming to see what was taking them so long.

He very nearly ended up ass over kettle courtesy of the boy but barely managed to retain his balance by grabbing onto the bulkhead quickly. “Slow it down a little, Jango!”

“Just...let him go,” Jaster said as he rubbed a hand over his face tiredly before reaching for his helmet.

“Everything okay, boss?”

“Yeah, just bad memories.”

Myles was only five years or so older than Jango but there was a world of difference between the two of them in maturity levels and it showed in the way the teenager wordlessly accepted Jaster’s order and carried on like nothing was out of the ordinary then.

“We’ve got a kriffing welcoming committee out there including a _Jetii_ I think. At least, I’m assuming it’s a Jedi going by those ridiculous robes.”

Jaster was glad he’d slipped on his helmet so Myles couldn’t read his sudden interest when the youth mentioned a Jedi.

“Huh, guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting then.” He had a sneaking suspicion he knew which _Jetii_ was waiting for them and once the gangplank dropped and they all stepped out onto the duracrete tarmac, Jaster wasn’t surprised in the least to see Plo Koon standing there waiting for them.

The Kel Dor towered over the native Meerians who on average were only a meter or so tall. The short, wiry native species of Bandomeer looked up at the Mandalorians as they approached with a combination of curiosity and wariness no doubt brought on by the menacing aura a fully armored and armed Mandalorian seemed to transmit without even trying.

Jaster could only assume the one in the repulsor-chair was the local considering he bobbled a full head above his compatriots.

“ _Mand’alor_ , we are honored with your presence.” Warmth suffused Plo Koon’s voice and Jaster had the distinct impression the Kel Dor was smiling beneath the antiox mask.

“Knight Koon, thanks for rolling out the welcoming brigade.” Two could play at that game and Jaster didn’t even bother to mask his ironic amusement at the greeting. He could practically feel the horror gathering amongst his men as a collective whole as he and the _Jetii_ shook hands. Plo Koon’s armored talons and opposite hand briefly covered his, trapping it between his in an unmistakable affectionate squeeze. With Jaster wearing his helmet and Plo’s antiox mask and goggles, it was impossible to fully make out either man’s expression but Jaster met the Jedi’s gaze all the same for one silent second and felt as though the two of them were sharing a private moment of amusement in contrast to the scandalized Mandalorians at Jaster’s back or the slightly discomfited Meerians who were picking up on the Mandalorian’s energy.

“Of course, please allow me to introduce HanZou. He is the local minister who represents this particular region.”

“Minister HanZou, a pleasure.” Gladhanding politicians had never come easily to Jaster though he’d learned the more subtle art of it out of necessity after he’d been elected _Mand’alor_. He would never find it enjoyable or fun but it was another part of the job he’d agreed to take on when he took up the title.

“ _Mand’alor_ , thank you for agreeing to meet with us.” In contrast to Plo Koon’s hand, the Meerian’s hand felt almost like that of a child in his own much larger one and Jaster was careful to regulate his strength when he shook hands with the Minister.

“Of course, I hope we can be of help in dealing with this bandit issue you’ve been having. Myles? Could you see the troops settled while we talk? Jango? You’re with us. If...the minister doesn’t mind of course? This is my son Jango, I’m trying to show him the ropes so to speak.”

“I would be honored to have your son accompany us.”

Much to Jaster’s quiet pride, Jango carried himself with calm confidence as he approached. He shook the Minster’s hand and after a second’s hesitation reached out to shake Plo Koon’s as well. The Kel Dor’s hand practically swallowed his whole but the lad didn’t even flinch at the touch of those metal-tipped talons.

“Jango, it is my pleasure to finally meet you.” There was no missing the warmth in Plo’s voice and the Jedi’s words earned him a puzzled look from the boy who looked first at the Jedi and then over at his adopted father as though to ask what that meant. Thankfully, he didn’t ask the question directly, something Jaster was silently relieved by because he didn’t know how he would have answered it.

He’d been forthright about what had happened between him and the Jedi he’d been trapped with on his dead ship floating through space. But Jaster hadn’t told anyone just how many or varied the topics of their conversation had been or that he’d even told the _Jetii_ about his foundling son.

“Shall we?” Jaster said, hoping to brush past the thorny conversation he knew was probably in his near future.

The talks with the Meerians progressed at a favorable pace and by the end of the afternoon, they had ironed out a contract where the Mandalorians would winter on Bandomeer assisting in both training and helping the local population build up their fortifications.

Jaster hoped it would be an easy way to spend a few months. It could give them a chance to train and replenish their strength after a series of more strenuous campaigns they’d been carrying out this year. After the negotiations, they all sat down to a generous meal put on by the locals who shared their bounty freely. The food wasn’t as spicy as what Jaster was used to but it was filling and plentiful. They served a local brew that was zinged across the tongue and reminded him of _Tihaar_.

Much like _Tihaar_ it packed quite a punch and after two small glasses, he found his head was becoming foggy and the rest of his Mandalorians weren’t fairing much better.

But since they were in a relatively peaceful locale, Jaster saw no need to squash his men’s fun. They would pay for it tomorrow but that was the price they would pay for an evening of over-indulgence. Stars knew he’d certainly had more than his fair share of wild nights in his youth and not so youthful years. Though honestly, at thirty-four he felt twice as old some days.

Jaster shot a look across the table at Plo Koon who thanks to his antiox mask was limited on what he could enjoy of the feast. Apparently, he was perfectly capable of processing the food but the extended exposure to the atmosphere would have been harmful to him so he made do with imbibing his meal in the shape of a nutrient-dense drink which he sucked from a straw through a port built into his mask.

Mandalorians often made use of a similar system when they were in a situation where they weren’t capable of or willing to breach the seal of their helmets or take it off. The Kel Dor was also on his second glass of the potent local brew but didn’t seem nearly as affected by it as some of the Mandalorians.

They counted an Iridonian amongst their number but she wasn’t feeling the effects of the drink nearly as strong so Jaster chalked it up to being more potent to humans compared to the local Meerians or near-humans like Zabraks.

“Jaster? I wondered if I might have a few moments of your time in private?” Plo asked suddenly and Jaster blinked at him a little owlishly for a moment at the unexpected request.

“Uh...sure?” He clapped a hand on Jango’s shoulder as he climbed to his feet. “I’ll be back in a bit, be sure to listen to Myles.” He had the sneaking suspicion Jango was going to make a play for his mostly full third drink the moment his back was turned and Myles was in no state to notice but Jaster accepted that eventuality with a fatalistic sort of pragmatism.

He knew if he’d been in Jango’s shoes he would have done the same thing and had done the same thing when he’d made off with a half-full bottle of _Tihaar_ he’d nicked from his father. He’d been puking his guts up the next day, convinced he was going to die when his father had put him to work in the fields.

But he’d certainly learned his lesson just as he hoped Jango would learn his. With one last affectionate muss of Jango’s curls, Jaster grinned at Plo Koon and fell into step with the Jedi as they headed for the door. They both had to hunch a little bit because Meerians architecture was geared for their smaller stature. It wasn’t as bad as say a Jawa-built structure but they definitely had to watch their heads.

The moment they were outside though, Jaster breathed in deep and allowed himself to enjoy the coolness of the evening. The sun had set and the lingering gloaming left just enough light that he could make out Plo Koon’s form standing there silhouetted against the purples and deep oranges of the dying sunset.

“Not that I’m complaining about your company, Plo, but what did you want to talk about?”

“I have a gift for you but it’s not something I wanted to make a show of presenting to you in front of the others.” The Jedi explained softly and indicated the hard-packed dirt path in a silent invitation to take a walk. Jaster fell into step beside him easily enough and the cool night air was helping to clear some of the cobwebs from his brain.

“Probably for the best, I think some of them were scandalized to see you and me as friendly as we are.”

“I sensed that as well and it pains me. But perhaps this will be an opportunity for education for all of us.”

“I can respect your optimism but I think you may be underestimating the sheer rock-headedness of _Mando’ade_.”

“I deal with the Jedi Council, I assure you that there is no one more hide-bound than that group of sentients.” Plo Koon pointed out with a trace of irony in his voice.

“Fair point, so long as you are aware of what you are signing yourself up for.” Jaster agreed with a chuckle as they found themselves on the main thoroughfare of the village. They were flanked by tiny, squat huts on either side and there was sporadic lighting set up but nowhere near what one would find on other worlds.

A couple of generations before Bandomeer had been almost completely cut off from all outside contact and their people’s technological progress lagged behind because of it. They might have modern lighting and sonics but they still clung to the simple mud-brick construction and leftover building techniques of their ancestors. It made for a strangely jumbled sort of atmosphere but at least Jaster could make out Plo Koon’s face as they wandered from one puddle of light to the next.

“Before I forget, here.” Once they reached the next bit of lighting cast by a porchlight, the Jedi withdrew a slender dagger from somewhere in his robes. Both of Jaster’s eyebrows crept upwards in surprise as the blade was presented to him. Even in the terrible lighting, Jaster immediately recognized the quality of workmanship in the knife as it was held out to him pommel first.

“Since your other dagger was ruined in your fight against the Weequay, I thought it only appropriate that I should replace it.” Plo Koon explained solemnly as Jaster unsheathed the dagger and examined it curiously.

“It’s beautiful. And probably worth far more than that other blade. Isn’t this Dorin steel? Like those fingercaps of yours?” The Mandalorian asked shrewdly as he slanted a look over at the Jedi.

“You have a good eye, Jaster. Somehow that doesn’t surprise me but yes, I did have occasion to recover back home after I was discharged from the Halls of Healing and picked it up there.” And then, after a pause, he continued almost hesitantly. “Is it to your liking?”

“It is, thank you, I will treasure it.” He made a show of re-sheathing the knife and tucked it under his vambrace for now until he could re-fit the sheath he’d sewn into his boot to accommodate the other dagger.

“You know, offering a weapon amongst Mandalorians is almost the same as flirting or asking someone if they’re interested in becoming bedmates.” Jaster just couldn’t stop himself from trying to tease Plo yet again by going for the outrageous. It felt safer than admitting he was strangely touched by the gesture.

Unfortunately, the lighting wasn’t bright enough to reveal if the mottles dappled across Plo Koon’s cranium or if the skin darkened as a tell-tale sign he was flustered. The Kel Dor ducked his head briefly and tucked his hands into the sleeves of his pockets almost restlessly. “And if I was? Flirting that is, the latter may be a bit too forward for my tastes.”

Just when he thought he’d finally managed to find a way of getting a rise out of the seemingly unflappable _Jetii_ , Plo Koon flipped the script on him yet again. At this rate, Jaster decided he should just give it up as a lost cause though because, at every step, the Jedi managed to outmaneuver him.

“What?” Came his utterly unintelligible and useless one-word reply of confusion.

“I said, what if I was flirting with you.”

“I..I thought….isn’t that…” Oh yeah, he was just a bastion of self-composure here. “I didn’t think Jedi… _did that_.”

“What? Flirt?”

Manda help him, if he said that word one more time, Jaster’s already tattered composure was going to disintegrate into a million particles. “Flirt, date...have _romantic relationships_ of any kind.”

“I thought we’d already established that Jedi aren’t expressly forbidden from having relationships or even to get married if it’s something they choose.”

“Yeah but you also said you were worried you might become too attached as I recall. Isn’t that against the rules?”

“You are right but you intrigue me, Jaster. I’ve thought about you often these past few months.”

“Stars preserve me, Plo.” Jaster practically groaned and he felt as though his pulse was beating in his ears like a drum.

“I...apologize if I have misread the situation or overstepped my bounds.” It was impossible to read the Jedi’s expression because of the mask and goggles but Jaster heard the trace of confused hurt in the other man’s words all the same and found himself reaching out to stop him when he moved back. His fingers curled in the rough-hewn material of Plo Koon’s robe and tangled in his sleeve.

“Just...take it down two notches,” Jaster said seriously and his fingers finally found Plo’s wrist amongst the voluminous folds of his many robes and outer garments. He could practically feel the tension in the Kel Dor’s body transmitted beneath his fingertips.

“You just really go at it, huh? Not going to lie I’ve been hit on by a drunken Huttese heiress with more subtlety.”

“You needn’t be cruel, Jaster.”

“I’m not, so don’t give me that kicked aak hound look.” He tried to soften his tone so the words weren’t too harsh sounding to the Jedi’s no doubt smarting ego. “You just...surprised me out of nowhere with a lot to take in.”

The Mandalorian kept his hold on the other man’s wrist light with the silent implication that Plo Koon could have pulled his wrist free at any time but the Jedi stood there radiating something akin to anxiety and the nervy look of an Eopie about to bolt. Much like he would have soothed a high-strung beast, he stroked his thumb in a soothing arc against the inside of Plo’s wrist. The gauntlet protecting the Jedi’s forearm no doubt cut down on the sensation of that touch but he felt a shiver run through the Kel Dor all the same.

Somewhat belatedly, Jaster realized Plo’s unexpectedly forthright confession was probably brought on in part by a lack of experience on the Jedi’s part. He didn’t think they exactly taught pick-up lines and how to flirt in their monastery but what did he know?

The highly inappropriate mental image of Jedi being taught seduction techniques and how to bait a proverbial honey-trap ran through his mind for a second and very nearly had him laughing at the utter ridiculousness of it all. But Jaster managed to maintain himself and stayed focused on the here and now rather than ridiculous, _dini'la_ ideas such as that.

“I feel as though I misread the situation somewhat. I thought you were flirting with me.” Plo finally admitted softly, more than a little abashed.

“Ah, I can see how that might have been misconstrued as that. I was trying to get a rise out of you. You’re pretty unflappable and I can’t help but see if I can ruffle your feathers.”

“I don’t have feathers.”

“Don’t get all literal-minded on me now, _Jetii_.” He mock-growled at Plo and seeing as how the Jedi hadn’t pulled his hand away yet, Jaster decided to push his luck further and loosened his fingers so he could drag them along the inside of the Jedi’s hand until they reached the edges of the leather gauntlet. It cut off at the fingers, leaving them free and exposed to the night air and the feather-light touch of Jaster’s fingers skimming across his.

He’d taken his own gloves off when they’d started to eat so that he didn’t accidentally dirty them and hadn’t felt the need to pull them off from where they were looped over his ammo belt yet. That first touch of bare skin to bare skin had another shiver coursing its way up the length of Plo Koon’s arm and for one seemingly endless second, he thought the _Jetii_ was going to pull away.

“Fine then, let’s be frank then, shall we?” There was a new husky burr in Plo’s voice and even if Jaster couldn’t see it, he felt the weight of the Kel Dor’s eyes centered on those brief points of contact. “What is this?”

“This? Now _this_ is flirting.” He said with a crooked looking smile and his cheeky response earned him a quiet huff from the Kel Dor. But for the first time, Plo seemed to reciprocate because his fingers crooked ever so slightly into Jaster’s which brought the cool metal tips of those curious metal guards he wore over some of his talons upwards to drag against the underside of Jaster’s fingers and well...that was certainly a curious sensation.

It felt good but it also had little alarm bells going off at the back of his mind because he had no doubt those claw tips could be used to great, violent effectiveness if Plo Koon chose to go that route.

“I sense...you are uneasy about something,” Plo said, still looking down at their hands.

“I thought we agreed, no _Jetii_ mind tricks.”

“I said I would not read your mind without your permission but asking me to not pick up on your emotions would be like asking me to not breathe. It colors the very Force around you.”

“Huh, must be useful.” Jaster mused, mind spinning at that realization. He definitely didn’t ever want to play cards with Plo even though the _Jetii_ had said it wasn’t his type of game. Maybe he simply realized he would have an unfair advantage in such an arena.

“It can be. And you are avoiding the question.”

“Am I?” Jaster doubted Plo was buying his mock innocent look but he needed a little bit of time to gather his thoughts. He’d apparently underestimated just how patient the Jedi could be though because Plo didn’t press him further even if he did briefly look up to give him what he could only assume was an exasperated look.

“I’m just trying to work out the particulars about how this would even work.” He finally said as he laced their fingers together rather than continue to toy with Plo Koon’s. It brought their palms together and expanded the contact between their skin. Jaster silently marveled at the curious texture of the Kel Dor’s skin. It was smooth and almost leathery and surprisingly warm in comparison to Jaster’s own body temperature.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to start with the whole you being a Jedi and me being not only a Mandalorian but the kriffing _Mand’alor_ part? Or should we skip right over that whole sticky situation and jump to the question of how does a relationship between a human and Kel Dor even work? We can’t even breathe the same atmo.”

“Those are both very valid concerns. To the former, it will be a delicate balancing act between our respective duties and the vows we made to our people. As to the latter...that I am a little unclear on myself, I must admit.”

“You are the master of the understatement.” It was Jaster’s turn to offer Plo an exasperated look in turn. “Can I ask something bluntly?”

“Am I to take it you haven’t been blunt thus far?”

“What I can say, take me as I am in all of my plainspoken glory. If you are hoping for someone who will sugar-coat things, I fear you are barking up the wrong Veshok tree.”

“Fair point, what is your question?”

“Have you ever been with a human before? In _that_ way?”

“Well...no. My duties have not exactly given me a lot of time to...expand my horizons so to speak in such ways. I presume you have never been with a Kel Dor before?”

“Nope. I’ve been with some non-humans but nothing too...exotic.” He finally had to settle on that word for lack of anything better.

“I’m bereaved to hear you and the Huttese heiress didn’t hit it off.” Plo Koon said deadpan and that garnered him a bark of laughter from the human.

“Don’t be, I’m just glad I managed to make it out of that situation without her deciding to put a contract out on me.” He’d forgotten how sassy Plo could be, he came across as so polite but then the Jedi revealed a surprisingly wicked sense of humor and Jaster appreciated that about the _Jetii_.

There were a lot of things he appreciated about the Jedi and that was the problem, wasn’t it? The very idea of trying to pursue any kind of relationship with him was absolutely insane. But he _liked_ him as a person and if he hadn’t been a damned _Jetii_ he wouldn’t have hesitated more than a second or two to consider him as a potential lover. Assuming humans and Kel Dor was even compatible in such ways.

But he was a Jedi and Jaster was the _Mand’alor_ of a people who both feared and often hated Jedi. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

“I’m going to be honest, I like you. I enjoy your company and definitely think we can be friends. Can we start there and see where it goes from there?”

“That sounds amenable.” If Plo Koon was disappointed in the request, he didn’t show it. Jaster found himself idly wishing he had a Jedi’s empathic ability at that moment to gain true insight into how Plo felt about his suggestion.

He simply would have to trust the _Jetii_ at his word.

Jaster looked down at their hands still loosely laced together. Holding hands with a Kel Dor wasn’t the same as holding another human’s hand in part because he only had four digits in contrast to a humans’ five. But the Kel Dor’s fingers were thicker than a human’s and topped with those wicked-looking talons only further exaggerated by the metal caps he wore over some of them.

It took some maneuvering to find a comfortable middle-ground and in the end, he’d ended up folding his thumb over the edge of Plo’s hand but eventually he’d found a comfortable position for the both of them.

“Okay, friends, and we’ll go from there. Hopefully, my people won’t hold a coup when they find out their _Mand’alor_ is calling a _Jetii_ a friend. I know I joke about wanting someone else to take up the title so I can have an excuse to take a nice extended vacation but there’s still a lot of changes I want to see come to pass before that happens.”

Jaster finally released Plo’s hand and took half a step back so he could slant a crooked looking smile over at the Kel Dor. “If nothing else, meeting you has taught me most of the things we’re taught about your kind is pure _osik_ so it makes me curious to see what other things we’ve gotten wrong over the years.”

“It’s always good to recognize your own personal blind spots. I can safely say I feel the same way regarding Mandalorians.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure most of what they say about us is true in one way or another. But I guess it would depend on what rumor you’re talking about.” He said with a chuckle which was matched by the Jedi.

“I suppose this just means we shall have to compare notes and figure out facts from fiction.”

“Well, isn’t it convenient that you’ll know where to find me for the next couple of months? Are you sticking around here or will you be moving on from here?”

“I will be here for a few days but I must continue on with my patrol after this. But since Bandomeer is the closest settlement where there is a permanent Jedi presence, I suspect I will be back through here often.”

“Then I guess we will have plenty of time to compare notes. Come on, let’s head on back. Who knows what mischief my men have gotten up to while we’ve been absent. With my luck, Jango tried to sneak my drink when no one was looking.”

“Let’s hope that’s not the case.”

“Never underestimate the mischief a precocious ten-year old can get into.”

“I’m sure you never got into trouble when you were that age.”

“Are you kidding? I was an absolute terror. He’s much better behaved than I was at his age but why put the temptation for mischief in front of his nose?” Jaster pointed out with a wry looking smile. “What about you? Were you one of those obnoxiously well-behaved children who could do no wrong?”

“I like to think I got into my fair share of mischief while I was a crechling but by the time I graduated to a youngling, it was a lot harder to get away with things. It’s not so easy to pull off pranks when you’re dealing with the likes of Master Yoda or other Masters who can quite literally read your intent every time you think about trying to start mischief.”

“That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.”

“Perhaps but when you are dealing with a bunch of half-trained Force sensitives it is better to encourage orderly behavior. But, do not think we were not allowed to be children and have fun either, in fact, I like to think I had a very lovely childhood.”

“By the time I was Jango’s age, I was helping my father out on the farm and I hated every second of it so I was constantly looking for a way to escape.”

“You weren’t raised to be a warrior? That does surprise me.”

“Just about every Mando child is taught how to fight...well maybe not those soft-handed pacifists down in Sundari but most every other _Mando’ade_ at least knows how to defend themselves or how to shoot a gun.” There was no missing the sneer of distaste in Jaster’s voice when he spoke of the New Mandalorians. “But my family were farmers like most people on my part of Concord Dawn. And I did not want to be a farmer. So the moment I reached my majority, I snuck off and joined the Protectors.”

“I can’t imagine your parents were pleased about that.”

“You could say that. My father told me not to bother coming home because if I wasn’t going to contribute to the farm, they didn’t need an extra mouth around to feed.” Jaster kept his tone light but Plo sensed the pain that accompanied those words. “We are nothing if not a pragmatic breed of people. And the Protectors put me up when I was in training so it all worked out in the end.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I never wanted to be a farmer. I much prefer the life I lead now so all in all I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Have you spoken to them now that you are _Mand’alor_?”

“No, it’s...complicated. The clan is important to a Mandalorian and when you have been excised from your clan there’s no going back. To them, I am no longer their son and they are no longer my family.”

Plo let the true horror of those words sink in for a moment and sensed the pain that was almost a decade and a half old seeping into the Force around Jaster, coloring it with his sorrow and regret. The man claimed one thing but that pain scored across Plo’s senses and told him a different truth.

“I am truly sorry, I cannot imagine that loss.” Even though he was not raised with his own birth family, he knew he would still be welcome among them at any time. He had visited them multiple times over the years and nurtured a relationship with them all the same.

“We Mandalorians have a saying,” Jaster said softly as he looked upwards towards the night sky briefly. “ _Aliit ori'shya tal'din._. It means family is more than blood. I have found a new family here among my people and unlike those who birthed me, they care about who I am rather than trying to force me to fit into some preconceived notion of what they wanted me to be.”

The Jedi took a chance and stepped in close so that he could close his hand over Jaster’s shoulder in a sympathetic gesture. “I am glad you have found people who will treasure you for who you are, my friend.”

“Besides I have a great object lesson on what kind of father I definitely _do not_ want to be for Jango.”

“From what I have seen so far and what I know of you as a person, I know you’re going to be a great father to the boy.”

“We’ll see how I do when he becomes a teenager. Right now, he still thinks he has to listen to what I say. Something tells me that’s not going to last for much longer.” Plo was quietly relieved when the sadness shadowing the Force around Jaster lightened and was replaced with the warmth of love the man obviously felt for his adopted son. The look on the human’s face was full of wry, self-deprecating humor.

“You will weather that storm as well.”

“I hope you are right.” Jaster was surprised how easy it was to talk to Plo. He didn’t exactly make a habit of talking about his own troubled past with his family but somehow, the damn _Jetii_ just stood there radiating calm acceptance and let him pour out the thorny, painful parts of his past without even thinking about it. A part of him wanted to blame it on some _Jetii_ mind trick but he believed Plo when he said he wouldn’t do such a thing without express permission.

Not that he was giving away privileged secrets or anything of real value. Still, in retrospect, he was surprised at himself even if he and the Jedi were now calling themselves friends and flirting with the idea of something more further down the line.

“I have faith, Jango seems like a good kid from what I’ve seen of him and he clearly hangs on your every word, I think it will not be as turbulent as you fear, Jaster.”

He wondered about that just as he wondered about the way Jango had reacted earlier. Jaster hadn’t realized just how deeply embedded the boy’s fears of him dying in battle lay or how much he worried about it. That was concerning but he hadn’t the faintest idea how to reassure him or help him overcome that fear. Because it wasn’t as though Jaster could just _stop_ being _Mand’alor_. He could no more hang up his blasters than he could change the very foundations of who he was as a person. He was a warrior and that meant he had to go into battle and may one day die.

But he didn’t want his son constantly obsessing and stressing over that possibility either.

He wondered what _Jetii_ did with their traumatized youths. Surely they had their fair share of such things considering their trainees or padawans saw some truly horrific things in the course of their training. Instead of asking, Jaster made a mental note to hop onto the holo-net tonight and do some research on the subject. He knew how Mandalorians would treat such things but apparently, Jango needed something more than that and he was willing to look outside of his own cultural bubble if he had to.

By the time they reached the communal hall, Jaster could already hear the raucous sounds of the ongoing celebration. He could just barely make out the unmistakable sounds of what sounded like ' _Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal'_ and knew his people were probably well and truly drunk by that point.

“Stars preserve us.”

“Let them have their fun, they will pay for it tomorrow. But tonight is a night for celebration.” Plo said with a chuckle in the face of Jaster’s exasperation.

“Says the man who has never tried to run herd on a group of drunken Mandalorians before. I just hope I can get them back to our accommodations without mortally offending HanZou or any of his people.”

“I will assist in any way that I can.”

“Got a lot of experience dealing with drunken _di’kute_?”

“More than you would expect. A Jedi has to perform many duties.”

“Let’s hope we can get through this without someone puking on your robes then,” Jaster muttered under his breath as he reached for the door.

“Lead the way, my friend.” Plo Koon said with a warm sounding chuckle and followed Jaster inside

**Author's Note:**

>  **Mando’a**  
>  _Ad'ika_ \- Little one, or child. -ika is a diminutive often used when referring to children, thus Jango becomes Jan’ika or little Jango  
>  _Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal_ \- A traditional Mandalorian drinking song [Link to lyrics here](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Buy%27ce_gal,_buy%27ce_tal)  
>  _Di’kute_ \- Idiots or morons, used in the plural  
>  _Dini'la_ \- Insane or crazy  
>  _Gett'se_ \- Nuts  
>  _Haar'chak!_ \- Damn it!  
>  _Hut'uun_ \- A coward, the worst kind of insult to a Mando  
>  _Jetii_ \- Jedi  
>  _Mando’ade_ \- Mandalorians  
>  _Mand’alor_ \- The elected leader of the Mandalorians  
>  _Ner Vod_ \- My brother  
>  _Osik_ \- Dung, or shit  
>  _Tihaar_ \- A potent, colorless liqueur brewed using a variety of fruits


End file.
